


Try and Fail

by Fratchet41



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bilbo gets dragged into things he never knew he wanted, Gandalf Meddles, M/M, Thorin doesn't know how to feelings, and non-rugby team bonding, as usual, hahaha yeah i did it, rugby team bonding, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fratchet41/pseuds/Fratchet41
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Bilbo ends up in one of the most prestigious schools in Middle-earth. Mostly against his will. Apparently he's also a member of the rugby team, which is entirely against his will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Party

**Author's Note:**

> Hahah so i wrote this over on FF.net a while back, and now I'm fixing it and posting it here! :)

Bilbo enjoyed his life. He enjoyed being small and busy, as well as watching telivision with hashbrowns and a cup of tean in front of him. It was enough to say that he didn't enjoy sports. He couldn't find the appeal in tiring himself out, as well as getting dirty and possibly injured. Concequently, he gave up trying to impress the girls throughout highschool. His parents only ever cared about good grades and a clean nose, so naturally he stuck with his academics. As it turns out, sticking with academics got him into one of the best universities this side of Fangorn: Erebor.

His parents couldn't have been prouder, and Bilbo couldn't have been more terrified. He had never ventured outside of the small suburbs of the Shire, and Erebor was out east, way over the Misty Mountains. He tried to argue that residence was too expensive, but both his mother and father insisted that with all of his academic acholarships, Bilbo had basically earned a free ride. And just like that, the arguement was over,  and an old family friend showed up to drive both Bilbo and all hid worldly posessions to Erebor and help move in.

Bilbo sighed against the windo of the grey truck, and Gandalf chuckled.

"Don't be so glum," he muttered, "I thought you wanted to go to Erebor, was it not you that applied?"

Bibo fidgeted in his seat and glanced out at the dark forest, "I only did it to make my parents happy." he tapped his toes and twiddled his thumbs nearously. Mirkwood was a vast expanse of forest that the two needed to drive through in order to get to the University. The thick foliage was capable of blotting out the sun, casting eerie shadows over the road. It made Bilbo nervous to say the least, never mind Gandalf's halfhazard way of driving, "besides, I didn't think I'd actually get accepted."

Gandalf actually laughed this time, sending the old man into a coughing fit, nearly driving them both off the road.

"Bilbo Baggins! I have always known of the greatness you have inside you, and everyone seems to be sure of it but yourself!" he scolded, though his tone was good-natured. Bilbo could only roll his eyes, he had heard enough of that from the man all his life.

"I don't belong in Erebor! I'm just Bilbo Baggins! I'm supposed to stay home and inherit my house from my parents! I have to . . . I have to . . ." Bilbo trailed off  after his outburst, only the quiet sound of his breathing to quell the silence. Gandalf looked down the road and shook hid head, bus said nothing.

They arrived at the university late in the afternoon, and after asking for directions twice, as well as a trip to the University Help Centre to retrieve his key, Gandalf pulled into the residence area on campus. As they drove through the congested roads, Bilbo couldn't help but gawk.

Hundreds of kids, his age or older, were carrying furniture and suitcases up stairs and through doorways. Furniture was being lifted out of trunks and garbage was being thrown out. Everyone was laughing and smiling in excitement for the new year, at least, everyone but Bilbo.

Gandalf pulled up and parked next to a large, three-story condo with the name  _Bag End_ plastered onto the door. The entire building was made with red brick, besides the wooden door and window frames, which were painted a deep forest green. The clashign colours made Bilbo wince, even the big, brass doorknob seemed out of place.

He slid out of the passenger's seat and sighed heavily, somehow unable to tear his eyes away from the residence building.  _His_ residence building. Gandalf handed him his suitcase and in return, Bilbo shot him an exhasperated look. The old man only rolled his eyes and motioned for Bilbo to follow him. They both climbed the stairs, and Bilbo fumbled with his key to open the door.

Luckily, his name was posted on the first door to the left of the entrance, the pink sticky not spelled  _Billy Boggins_. He didn't read the second name, as he was too nearvous to stand still. He quickly jiggled the doorknob until it opened and almost fell into the room behind it. Gandalf was only able to catch him by the collar of his shirt and haul him to his feet.

The flat was bigger then Bilbo thought it would be, complete with a kitchen, bathroom and a living room. The latter was equipped with a cheap looking ikea couch and armchair surrounding a cofee table. The entire space had white carpets, and the kitchen's floor was laminate and boring.

"Hello?" Bilbo called, walking towards the back of the flat, where he found two bedrooms and a linen closet. Both rooms were identical, and held a bare bed, night stand, and empty closet. Biblo dropped his suitcase on the floor and turned to Gandalf

"We forgot the hangars." he huffed, and the old man only shrugged dismissively, depositing a pillow and set of sheets on the bed.

"Maybe he hasn't arrived yet." Gandalf sugested.

Bilbo scoffed, "Well, then he's terribly late." he then worried at the hem of his shirt and went to the kitchen. Inside was a small refridgerator, a stove and sink. The cabinets were painfully empty, along with the fridge. Biblo peered through the archway into the living room, almost appaled, "We have to go get groceries."

The next few hours consisted of the two moving the rest of Bilbo's personal effects into the flat, and then leaving to get groceries. They bot returned with an entire pantry's worth of food, along with soup cans and hangars. The bed was then made, clothing hung up and folded. Evverything was dusted and wiped down until the flat was spotless. Bilbo even had time to make himself dinner after Gandalf had left to chack into a hotel.

Bilbo sighed contentedly as he sat in fron of his full plate. He took pride in the efficiency of which he had been able to set up his new home. Bilbo looked about and smiled at his good work. He decided he could like it here in Erebor, however loud and busy it was outside. He was so caught up in the moment he barely heard the knock at the door.

Bilbo made an exhasperated sound as he stood and hurried to the door. Upon opening it, his face fell in disappointment. A man with broad shoulders and muscled arms eyed him expectantly.

Bilbo bliked, "Um,"

"Dwalin." the man growled roughly, and pushed both past Bilbo and through the door. Bilbo stood frozen in place and pursed his lips, brow furrowed. He was interrupted by a loud roar from the kitchen.

Bilbo jumped and ruched back to the table, imagining a worst-case acenario that invilved a broken plate. Instead, he saw Dwalin seated at the table, wolfing down the dinner he had prepared himself.

"'S good, this." the intruder grunted through a mouthful. Bilbo pursed his lips together again and bit his tongue, trying not to get annoyed at Dwalin's awful table manners. He was going to politely ask this new student what he was doing here when a knock at the door stopped him.

Thinking it was Gandalf, Bilbo stormed down the hall to the doorway and flung it open. Instead of the tall, grey and familiar face, he was met with a smiling shorter man that somehow resembled his other visitor. 

"Balin." he shook Bilbo's hand politely and wandered into the flat, laughing and roughly exchanging a greeting with Dwalin. Bilbo was too dazed at first to notice the two had founf the cupboards and fridge, but the clanging of pots and pans snapped him out of it.

The two were muttering to themselves quietly as Bilbo snuck in, wringing his hands.

"Um," Bilbo squeaked, vying desperately for their attention, "now I know that we're all really excited for school starting, but. . . um. . . I've just moved in, but. . . I don't mean to be rude, but I'm sorry." Bilbo blinked at the two men, who continued talking as if they hadn't even noticed him, "Um, excuse me?"

Both of the intruders slowly turned and Bilbo shrunk under their gaze. The seemed to grow in size when they looked at him, both bodies large and intimidating.

"Um, well, nevermind." Bilbo waved his arms curtly and flushed pink, and the two men continued unloading the cupboards without heasitation. Bilbo was about to protest with an excuse of money trouble, but there was another knock at the door. The noise made him jump, and he scuttled off to answer the door once more. He winced when he opened it, praying to God it was the old man that was two visitors late of an explanation.

When he opened his eyes he almost sagged, as two more unframiliar faces smiled at him expectantly.

"I'm Fili," the blond one rocked on his heels in excitement.

"and I'm Kili," the dark haired one giggled, looking to the taller one, "the Durin brothers,  _at your service._ " the last portion was spoken by the two of them in unicine, both giving curt nods before pushing past Bilbo and wiping their dirty shoes on the carpet.

"Ah! Dwalin and Balin are here!" one of the two roared from the kitchen.

"I can't wait 'till the others get here!" the other laughed heartily.

The comment barely registered in Bilbo's already befuddled mind. He turned towards the kitchen with wide eyes and and overall horrified look on his face, "O-others?" he managed to sputter, and he heard the clanging of plates and dishes once more. He was just about to bustle back to the kitchen and abjure the use of cutlery and dishes, but yet another knock at the door interrupted him.

He was halfway between scolding and cursing when a group of people cut him off by faceplanting onto the doormat, with Gandalf chuckling softly behind the rowdy group.

His company all stood with a clamour and loud laughter, everyone seeming to be yelling at each other, includinf Bilbo, but there was too much going on for him to register what anyone was saying. All the little host could to was look at Gandalf, and the smirk on his face was telling enough. Bilbo knew who was behind all of this.

There were shouts from the kitchen, and Bilbo saw that most of the space, including the counters, was taken up by visitors and plates of food. One particularly large man had made off with an entire tub of ice cream, and Dwalin had somehow produced a fair amount of liquor. Loud laughter erupted from the menu and Bilbo suddenly felt very small and out of place amongst the crowd. Gandalf also sat and laughed gently, but decided to hold off on the feast before him.

Bilbo, at a loss for words, could only watch as the company devoured his entire kitchen. The lot of them took a swig from their beers and cheered merrily, but Bilbo politely refused when offered. What irked him the most about the whole lot was the fact that none of them said please or thank you, they were also too boisterous and rowdy for his taste, as if everything was somewhat funny.

When the group was full, the lot of them washed the dishes and piled them neatly on the table. Bilbo stood dumbstruck in the doorway of the small kitchen, a look of complete astonishment on his face. Gandalf chuckled at the smaller students reaction, who merely glared daggers at the older man.

By this time, Bilbo had built up enough courage to implore the meaning of this party and to kindly get out, if you don't mind. Before he could even draw a breath, a strong knock at the door caused the room to quiet. Gandalf raised an eyebrow at him and Bilbo cursed, being cautious as he opened the door. He nervously peered out from behind the door frame and sighed with relief.

The man standing before him was a whole foot taller than him, with a thick neck and broad shoulders. His toned arms were crossed over his chest as he glared at Bilbo, puffing up dominantly and widening his stance.

"Sorry I'm late." the accented lilt rolled off of his tongue as he held out his hand, which Bilbo took gently. The great paw engulfed Bilbo's own easily as the stranger nearly shook him off of the mat. "Thorin Oakenshiled. I guess everyone's already eaten?" Bilbo nodded and shrunk back behind the door as Thorin stepped in confidently. The rest of the company greeted the newcomer with a little more respect than they had each other, Bilbo was surprised.

"So, this is our scrummy, Gandalf?" Thorin asked, allowing his eyes to flick over Bilbo, who merely blinked and glanced from side to side.

Gandalf smiled, "Why yes, Thorin, I'm sure he'd be the appropriate choice."

Bilbo widened his eyes as panic set in, "Um, no. I'm not a scrumhalf, I actually can't play rugby! Terribly violent, much to difficult for me! I - uh. . . School's-" the company stared as Bilbo tried to sputter excuses, and Kili turned to Gandalf with a smirk on his face.

"Well, he certainly is small enough." a couple others grunted in agreement. "You ever play before?" he then asked Bilbo quietly.

"No! Never! Not in my life!" Bilbo blurted hurriedly, almost as if he were panicking. He only stopped when the Thorin held up a hand to quiet him. He looked to Gandalf, who shrugged quietly, and then he faced Bilbo once more. Thorin opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to decide against it, shaking his head slightly.

"Well," he turned to the group of kitchen-invaders, "at least you can all help me move in." the room erupted with cheers and the entire group pushed past Bilbo.

Bilbo stood in a daze for a moment, the silence almost deafening in the ruined kitchen.

"M-move in?" he squeaked at Gandalf, who smiled softly and guided Bilbo to the doorway yet again. The first name was still spelled horribly wrong, and Bilbo reminded himself that he would have to complain later. But just underneath his name, a sticky note was attached hurriedly just under it, where a name was proudly scrawled in thick letters.

_Thorin Oakenshield_

Bilbo groaned and sagged into Gandalf's grip, feeling weak at the knees.

"I think you should get to sleep." he grumbled and helped Bilbo to his freshly made bed and pulled the covers over him. Bilbo closed his eyes and nuzzled into his pillow, scoffing as he heard the dull clamour of too many people in his flat.

"Scrumhalf."


	2. Good Morning

Sun shone through his blinds, forming horizontal patterns across the room as he awoke. For a moment, Bilbo stiffened, having forgotten where he was. He sighed and stretched, groaning as he sat up and looked around. The room seemed colder when it was this silent, somehow not living up to the first impression he had with the flat yesterday.

He pulled on a striped jumper and black jeans, not bothering with socks or a belt. There was still a week until school stared, before then he didn't need to get into the habit of dressing properly. Bilbo always had to look right and present himself well, he had his family name to uphold, after all.

He rubbed his eyes as he padded to the kitchen, silently checking whether his guests had stayed or not. He peeked through the doorway, kneading and wringing his hands nervously as he went. Once he saw that not only was the kitchen empty, but that it was spotless, he sighed in relief. The rest of the flat was also empty, albeit some new knick-knacks probably belonging to Thorin.

Bilbo groaned as he remembered the night before. A rugby player like Thorin, using his dishes and snoring and tracking mud on his carpet and using his shower, the thought made Bilbo bristle. He then wondered if the entire event had been a dream, some sick and twisted nightmare brought upon by stress and working too hard. Bilbo disproved this idea when he opened the fridge and cupboards to find them empty.

"I'll get breakfast." a low, groggy voice made Bilbo start and turn to see Thorin toeing on his shoes. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants that rode  _very_  low on his hips, along with a tight black T-shirt that made his biceps look obscene. He also hadn't shaved, which annoyed Bilbo for some reason.

"Um-" Bilbo's protests were cut short when Thorin's bright, proud eyes met his. He felt all of his thoughts leave his brain and pool at his cheeks, settling as a hot blush. All Bilbo could do was swallow and rock back gently on his heels, quickly averting his gaze. "W-what was all that about being a scrimmy?"

"Scrummy" Thorin jingled his keys next to his thigh.

"Oh."

"Gandalf told us you'd make a good one." Thorin's gaze kept on Bilbo, almost judgemental. Bilbo visibly shrank at his voice.

"Well, I've never really played before, but I've seen a couple of games and it looks really scary. Um, no offense. There were people carried off the field with broken noses and, um, other injuries. It looks really rough, b-but if you need someone. . ." Bilbo trailed off, cheeks even hotter than they were before. Thorin only nodded.

"You want Chinese?" his keys jingled again.

"Well, I can hardly consider-"

The door closing firmly cut Bilbo off midscentence, leaving him to fume silently in the small flat. Bilbo turned on the kettle and muttered to himself about manners and people growing up in caves, but after his tea he felt a little better. He even washed his cup before returning it to its rightful place next to the bowls.

Thorin returned about fifteen minutes later with small takeout boxes and chopsticks. He sat across from Bilbo and slid the box with chopsticks over. Bilbo could feel the taller man's eyes on him as he fumbled to open the box.

"So," Thorin began, using his huge hands to pry open his own container, "tell me what you already know."

Bilbo blinked, mouth half full of noodles, "What I know?"

Thorin sighed and fixed Bilbo with another annoyed look. The man had a very imposing personality, and Bilbo almost hid under the table from his gaze, "Rugby? Ever heard of it?"

"Oh!" Bilbo choked out, he chewed and swallowed the contents of his mouth, then took a breath, "Well, I know that there's a scrum, and a bunch of the players bend over and push each other around. Then someone puts the ball in the middle."

"You do." Thorin's low voice cut in.

"What?"

Another sigh, "The scrummie rolls the ball into the scrum."

Bilbo paused for a moment, "Right. Well, after that, the same person gets the ball out and passes it to someone on the left or right, depending on their field position."

"That's me."

Bilbo pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side.

Thorin leaned over his breakfast, getting even closer to Bilbo than he wished, "I'm your flyhalf, the scrumhalf almost always passes the ball to the flyhalf. I make the plays and sometimes kick."

Something about the way Thorin said  _I'm your flyhalf_  made Bilbo blush furiously; he subconsciously bit his lips and fidgeted in his chair. "I- um," Bilbo cleared his throat after his voice cracked and slid down in his seat slightly, "Well, I also know that you can't pass forward. Nothing but backwards. And the kicker also has to be in front of everyone before they can move forward."

Thorin leaned back again and nodded, running his hand over his face and scratching his stubble. "You know anything about lineouts?" he rumbled solemnly.

"Not really," Bilbo wrung his hands to keep them from trembling, "is it when the ball goes out?"

Thorin rolled his eyes once more and stabbed at his food, "You'll learn at practice today."

Bilbo blinked, struck dumb, dropping his chopsticks into his massacred meal. "Umm, what was that? Because I thought you just said-"

"Practice, at two. It's mandatory for the first one." Thorin slurped up the last of his noodles and crushed the box, letting some of the juice dribble onto the table. His lips turned up into a somewhat satisfied sneer, and he looked back to Bilbo, and shrugged gruffly "What?"

"I don't even have a decent pair of trainers!" he scoffed, "and I hardly think that I'm someone who you'll want on the team. I am far too delicate, and I can hardly run or lift half of my weight! I once tried to play cricket and nearly broke my ankle! I'd also be falling all over the place. When I try to run, it's like I have huge duck feet! I can't possibly-"

"Bilbo." Thorin's tone alone shut him up. The low growl was more than enough to let Bilbo know he was done with talking. Bilbo sat back, wide eyed, and let Thorin continue.

"If you put as much energy you have with talking into sports, I think you'd make a half-decent player." Thorin almost sneered when Bilbo's face turned bright red and he tried to babble an apology.

"It's fine," Thorin stood and tossed the remains of his meal into the trash, "So long as I take you shopping." Bilbo's face reddened even further at this.

"What-I-um-well-"

"There's a sportcheck a few blocks from here over on Dale street. You could probably get all your equipment from there."

Bilbo's shoulders sagged almost in relief. He stood and closed his unfinished box of food. Thorin leaned up against the table and watched as Bilbo hurried to put away the rest of his meal. Bilbo was panicking a little bit, partly because he knew that Thorin's eyes were on him, but mostly because he would have to push past said roommate in order to throw his chopsticks into the trash and escape. His ears throbbed as he cleared his throat, hurrying to pass through. Bilbo tried to ignore the heat his right arm felt when he allowed it to brush against Thorin's chest, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when a low chuckle rumbled behind him.

"I'm not going to eat you." Thorin's eyes sparkled as Bilbo turned to face him. All Bilbo could do was laugh nervously and scurry off to find a pair of socks. Once safely in his room, he absently fixed his mess of loose curls in the mirror for a moment before slipping on his shoes. He took one deep breath and emerged from his hiding place. Thorin already had his shoes on and was out the door before Bilbo could catch up to him.

Bilbo shut the door gently and scurried over to Thorin's side, nearly tripping down the steps in order to keep up. Thorin led him through the busy street into an even busier parking lot. There he opened the door to a red ford Ranger, and ushered Bilbo to take shotgun.

The truck rumbled to life and sped out of the lot, Thorin not wasting any time between lights. Bilbo stiffened and tightly grasped his seat, heart racing. If Thorin noticed Bilbo's plight, he paid no attention, and continued driving.

The ride was silent, the only sound was Bilbo's quiet sigh once Thorin pulled in and parked inside the mall. Thorin quickly glanced at Bilbo before shoving his keys into his pocket.

They entered through the food court, which was packed with new students or young kids trying to get the last of their summer holiday in. Bilbo recognized a few people that he briefly met on campus, whom he waved to or smiled at. The smells and sounds were almost too much for him to handle, having never seen so many people in such a small place. He was about to turn to Thorin and exclaim his astonishment when his face fell.

Bilbo felt his breathing hitch when he realized that Thorin had disappeared. Bilbo's mind raced as he turned in circles, searching people's faces for his new friend, but finding nothing. He walked farther into the mall and through the food court, glancing into the stores quietly. He was about to walk back to the entrance when a gentle tug on his sleeve made Bilbo squeak and whirl around.

Thorin was looking down at him with a slightly annoyed expression on his face. Bilbo nearly flushed a deep purple and tried to sputter an apology.

"Try not to get lost." Thorin grumbled and pushed past Bilbo, quietly sighing to himself.

The Sportcheck was surprisingly empty when they arrived, and Thorin absently led time towards the clothing section like he owned the place. The staff greeted or smiled at him quietly as he passed, and Thorin nodded politely.

"You a size 30?" He asked dismissively as he picked out a pair of navy blue shorts and tossed them at Bilbo, who could do nothing but stare.

Thorin ended up buying Bilbo a mouthguard, socks, trainers, shorts, cleats, spandex and a practice jersey in less than fifteen minutes. Bilbo also noticed the way that the cashier giggled and blushed at him like a fourteen year old girl. Her pink lips turning up as their eyes met. Though Thoin didn't seem to notice, the smaller mad did. Bilbo grew annoyed at her attentions and decided to not say thank you on the way out.

Bilbo checked the pricetags on his new items on his way home, and gaped at the amount of numbers. Of course, he knew that equipment was expensive, but the price for a pair of tiny shorts shouldn't be above thirty qid.

"Um, this is-"

"It's fine." Thorin grumbled, not bothering to look over at the smaller man.

"But this is a lot of-" Bilbo began to protest, but again Thorin cut him off.

"I said it's  _fine."_ he retorted again, with a sort of finality in his voice that made Bilbo quiver.

Thorin let Bilbo out in front of Bag End, keeping the car running.

"I'll meet you over on the field in an hour. Don't be late."

Bilbo stood on the sidewalk for a long moment after Thorin had driven away, wondering where and when in the world he had sinned badly enough to deserve what was happening to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she's a short one, so I'll post two. Hope you enjoy! :)


	3. Roasted Scrumhalf

Bilbo concluded that he had to be some dastardly thief or burglar in a past life to deserve this.

He had always worked hard and been polite, and he had never been into any serious trouble with the law, yet here he was getting mixed up in other people's business like it was his own. His thoughts continued as he climbed the steps up into Bag End, and he decided that he wouldn't go to practice tonight. He'd say he was sick and then explain how wrong Gandalf had been about the whole issue. He wasn't an athlete of any sort, let alone some ruffian scrumhalf on a university rugby team.

He opened the unlocked door to his flat and toed off his shoes. He hurriedly shut the door as if he were being chased and sighed. How could this have happened to him? He was a Baggins, for heaven's sake. For a long moment he stood against the door, breathing heavily. Only the grumbling in his stomach interrupted his wallowing. He was going to find the rest of his breakfast when he heard movement inside of the apartment.

Bilbo froze, tiptoeing quietly to the end of the hallway where he could hear voices, though the words were muffled by Thorin's closed door. Bilbo didn't know what to do, and for a moment he contemplated calling the police. He only stopped grasping for his phone when a loud and familiar bark of laughter came from the room. Bilbo slowly tiptoed down the hall and towards the closed door, his entire body coiled like a spring. He was within reach of the doorway when another loud shout came from inside the room and the door opened.

"Ah! Bilbo!" Fili chuckled, rugby ball in hand, "We were wondering when you'd get back." Fili turned and Bilbo glanced into Thorin's room. Kili was jumping on an unmade bed, smiling innocently.

"Hey, Bilbo!" he grinned, calling for a pass from Fili, who ignored him.

The room had somehow become a disaster within the 24 hours Bilbo had known it. Clothes and papers were strewn all over the place, a suspiciously fresh pizza stain decorated the carpet, along with empty soda cans and a pair of muddy trainers. It took everything Bilbo had to keep himself from compulsively cleaning the entire room. Instead, he looked back to Fili.

"How did you two get a keycard for the building?" he inquired, pushing past Fili to attempt to maneuver around the scattered items in Thorin's room.

"Oh, we live across the hall," Kili smiled, catching a swift spinpass midair, "the door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in. Is Thorin with you?"

"No!" Bilbo snapped a little, but composed himself, "No, he isn't, but he said that practice is in less than an hour and-"

"There's pizza, if you like!" Fili picked up a box from under the bed and offered it to Bilbo.

"No, thank you." he grimaced and absently began folding the laundry on the floor and putting it away.

"We'll walk you to practice!" Kili all but shouted, and threw the ball at Fili.

Bilbo sighed and said nothing. He stared at Thorin's floor for a bit, and opted to just put everything on hangars. When he was done the laundry, he ordered the two intruders to throw out their garbage and to clean up their pizza stain. The brothers complied, though a little unhappy that Bilbo killed the fun. By the end of it, Thorin's room looked half decent.

Bilbo huffed proudly and admired his good work. He only had to yell at Kili once to get down from jumping on the freshly made bed, and the pizza stain was caught early enough to be all but invisible.

"Hey, Bilbo," Fili began, plunking down onto the couch, "you have a phone?" Bilbo nodded and took a moment to fish it out of his back pocket.

"Mine too!" Kili appeared behind Bilbo and snatched the phone from his hands, "You have Thorin's number yet?"

"Um, no." Bilbo fidgeted.

"Really? Because man, I thought that-"

"We should get going soon," Fili interrupted hurriedly, "wouldn't want to be late for practice." he then shared a look with his brother, and dragged Bilbo out the door before he could make an excuse.

The field was about fifteen minutes walking distance from the flat, and the entire time Bilbo was forced to put up with Fili and Kili's bickering. He was almost glad when they entered the changerooms.

There, he saw Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Oin and Gloin, Balin greeted him with a smile, and Dwalin was in some sort of playful shouting match with Fili and Kili. Ori also waved gently at him, and Nori and Dori seemed to be late.

"Where's Thorin?" Bilbo quietly asked Balin as he shucked off his jumper.

Balin sat on a bench and began to lace up his cleats, "He came early, the captain always likes to take an extra ten minutes to warm up."

Bilbo nodded and continued changing, only needing help with stretching the tight jersey over his head, but after that he was ready to head out.

Thorin was setting up pilons with Gandalf in the Centre of my he field. Bilbo stared at Gandalf, somewhat surprised at his presence. Gandalf may have been a meddling old man but he usually didn't wait around to bask in everyone's happiness.

"Alright, two lines, let's see three laps today." Thorin yelled as the group reached the centre of the field. Thorin began to jog in front of the entire company, and from there Bilbo was roughly shoved into one of the lines and sent running down the field. At first the pace was slow, but soon picked up, and by the end Bilbo found himself a coughing and wheezing mess. He just about collapsed onto the grass as all the other members were merely breathing hard.

"Okay, line up! We're doing an active stretch today. High knees!" Thorin commanded, and the entire group lined up, Bofur even added an 'aye aye, cap'n'

After the warm-up came the drills. Any of which included catching a ball had Bilbo fumbling pitifully. Thorin was always the best, always finishing first but never letting up. His muscles flexed and eyes gleamed, his mouth would also curl upwards into an unkept smirk. Bilbo hadn't known what was so great about rugby until he saw Thorin play.

All the while, Gandalf watched from the side, giving pointers and scolding now and then for stupid mistakes.

"Alright, good hustle. How about some unapposed?" Gandalf's voice halted their drill, and Thorin nodded. Bilbo looked about as Thorin began assigning positions.

"Nori, Bifur, Gloin, I want a half a scrum on the opposing team. Oin, you play flyhalf, Fili's on wing." Everyone nodded and assumed their positions as Thorin gently led Bilbo to his spot with the ball.

"Wait for Ori to tap three times, then roll her in." Thorin murmured, patting Bilbo on the shoulder roughly. Gandalf also came to stand beside Bilbo, examining the scrum before him and acting as a sort of referee.

"Crouch." Gandalf yelled, and each member of the scrum redirect themselves.

"Touch." The props across from each other patted their shoulders, smirking.

"Pause." Ori looked at Bilbo and nodded.

"Engage." Bodies clashed together with rough grunts, both sided leaning on each other and scraping the turf for purchase. Bilbo's breathing hitched as he gripped the ball tightly, bending over and getting ready.

Ori's hand tapped thrice, and Bilbo's heart skipped a beat. He rolled the ball in straight, and watched as a leg darted out to hook the ball back behind the front row.

"Drive!" Dwalin roared from the back, and a series of grunts answered. Bilbo followed the ball to the end of the scrum, and the looked at Thorin, heart racing. He could barely see Thorin's reassuring nod before Dwalin presented the ball to Bilbo with the back of his cleats. Bilbo nervously grasped the ball, heaving as he lobbed it to Thorin.

Thorin sprinted into the catch, not wasting any time and spinning it to the right. Kili caught it on the wing, sprinting ahead of everyone. Bilbo fell in behind everyone, not wanting to get in the way.

The opposing team approached, forming a flat line that quickly ate up the distance between Biblo and the aggressors. For a half second he slowed down. Upon glancing at the ball-carrier, he caught a wicked smirk from both Fili and his brother as the two collided. Fili used all of his strength to drag his brother and the ball down with him.

"Ruck!" Dwalin yelled, pushing the other team off of the ball and leaving it for Bilbo.

"Backs left!" Bilbo heard Thorin shout as he quickly scrambled for the ball. He passed it to the left and at Thorin, who bobbled it for a moment but continued running. He shook off Nori and stumbled, only falling to touch the ball down in the endzone.

The rest of the team cheered, and Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow, still heaving. Bilbo stood in awe of what he had just witnessed, only then realizing the burn and lack of oxygen in his lungs. Bilbo swayed slightly, feeling a bit light-headed. He looked to Thorin, who only smirked and told everyone to pack it in. Bilbo took a feeble step towards the captain, feeling dizzier with every growing second. He blinked for a moment, before finally falling to the ground, the world fading to black around him.

Bilbo awoke back in his own flat, with nothing but silence to instigate a massive headache. He was laying down on the rather uncomfortable couch, with a glass of water and aspirin bottle on the coffee table beside him. He sat up slowly and feebly grabbed for the bottle before swallowing two pills instead of one, just for good measure. Once he had gulped down the pills he noticed that he was wearing a foreign pair of pajamas, along with a baggy t-shirt that smelled a little like something familiar.

Bilbo felt his face heat up and his intestines twist into knots when he realized what the smell was. It was Thorin. He was wearing Thorin's pajamas. And someone changed him into said pajamas. He stiffed and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to resist the urge to bury himself in a cemetery and be done with life already. His eyes widened as he gripped his new pants tightly, knuckles going white. Thorin had taken him home, taken his clothes off, and all but put him to bed. Thank god he was still wearing his boxers, but Bilbo took pride in being a prude. He was about to sprint to the bathroom and have a shower when voices interest kitchen stopped him.

"You saw him today at practice! He fainted from exhaustion!" the low rumbled Thorin's voice made Bilbo blush.

"I did see him at practice, Thorin Oakenshield, and that is precisely why I think we should keep him." Gandalf's wise voice was quiet, but accusatory, "We already need one more, I don't think beggars can be choosers at this point." there was a long paused after, and Bilbo could almost hear the tension.

"I can't guarantee his safety."The low voice warned.

"I understand." Gandalf nearly choked out.

With that, Bilbo heard the chairs scraping, and he stood, nearly tipping over the correct table undoing so. Gandalf quickly said his goodbyes to both of them before leaving. The door punctuated Gandalf's absence, and the flat was silent once more.

"You're up," Thorin stated solemnly, jamming his hands into his pockets, "how's the head?"

"Fine!" Bilbo said a little too loudly, "you know, a little sore, but I'll live." Bilbo avoided Thorin's gaze, who seemed be glaring at him angrily. Bilbo's phone buzzed, and he jumped to get it.

He had ten messages, the majority of which were Fili and Kili inquiring about how he was feeling. He sent a 'fine, thank you.' to the two of them and smiled at their concern.

"Who's that?" Thorin asked, sitting on the couch and fixing his eyes on Bilbo once more.

"Fili and Kili." Bilbo answered cooly, not looking up from his phone. He heard Thorin shift uncomfortably and hum a response.

"When did they get your number?" He asked, tone changing to something less casual. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably, feeling Thorin's eyes on him.

"This afternoon. They came over when we were out. I made them clean your room."

"I noticed." Thorin growled as he stood, and stopped a foot away from Bilbo. Bilbo immediately stopped texting, but couldn't bring himself to look away from the screen. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. It was so loud, Thorin must hear it too, sense how nervously he was. Before Bilbo could say of do anything, Thorin took the phone and pressed a few buttons, only handing it back when his number had been cataloged correctly. Biblo blinked at the device in his hands as Thorin stalked off to his room without a word, closing the door to his room a little too loudly.

Bilbo sighed and decided to think nothing of it. Thorin was usually a grumpy person, so of course he'd be mad at Bilbo about messing up at practice and touching his things, and not asking for Thorin's number. He shrugged and downed the last of his water, deciding to go take a shower. He only startled a little when the pipes rattled, but other than that the water was fine. He washed the sweat and worry from his hair and turned the heat up, hoping to get his stiff muscles to relax slightly.

Once he was finished, he absently grabbed a towel from the rack and tied it around his waist. Bilbo slid the curtain open and shook the water from his hair, rubbing the water from his eyes as he stepped out of the shower. Bilbo stopped as soon as he set his foot onto the floor and opened his eyes. Thorin was standing at the sink in nothing but his boxers, with a foamy razor in his left hand. He was also glaring daggers at Bilbo.

Bilbo suddenly felt every drop of water on his body, his hair was stuck to his head and neck, his skin tingled slightly, "Sorry." he muttered, though he didn't know why.

Thorin wiped his face clean and handed the towel to Bilbo, who took it and used it to dry his hair silently. Once satisfied, he neatly hung the towel in the rack and faced Thorin again, who was still standing at the sink quietly, "Thanks."

Thorin watched a bead of water travel from Bilbo's collarbone down to the towel on his hips. He cleared his throat and blinked for a moment.

"Sorry." he mumbled quietly, scratching at his now smoother chin. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead he merely wiped his hands on his navy boxers and walked to his room. Bilbo heard the door click almost silently.

Bilbo flushed a bright pink and fumbled to close the bathroom door and pull on the neatly folded pajamas he had worn earlier. He bit his tongue at the whiskers Thorin had left in the sink, and turned the water on to wash them away. Bilbo then brushed his teeth quickly and sprinted to his bedroom, not wanting to have to bump into Thorin again. He hid his face in his pillow and groaned loudly.

As if this was his life.


End file.
